Sephy and Callum: Prisoners To Love and Hate
by xGeetika
Summary: My take on re-writing the scenes in the first book when Sephy is beaten up in the girls' bathroom, and when Callum finds out. Please read!


Callum and Sephy: Writing in Role.

**SEPHY.**

I splashed some of the tap water onto my face. The water was soft and ice-cool; it felt nice on my clammy face. I tried to look at myself in the mirror. But I just couldn't, because when I looked at myself, my eyes stung and my mouth tingled with the over-whelming temptation to curse at myself. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without wanting to hate myself, and everything that I was. It was all because of that foul, vile color. Black. The color stretched around my entire body, leaving no slither of skin unmarked _of_ who I was.

An involuntary tear trickled down my cheek. A few days ago, it hadn't mattered that I was a _dusk-colored_ Cross and that Callum was an ivory-skinned nought. It hadn't made _a mere_ difference; it barely even crossed my mind, but those thoughts were gone, and how I wished they would come back. _How I wished those old days could come back…_but they couldn't.

I wanted them to; I could try my very best to get them back, but they wouldn't come. They couldn't, because Callum had shoved the truth right in my face. That he was a nought, and that I was a Cross. _Cross,_ _nought._

Two words, so similar, yet so different.

They'd never mattered to me. I'd always overlooked them, and so had Callum, even when it got hard. But now the days of laying idly on the soft sand and cackling gaily on the beach under the warm, golden sun were gone_._ They had been replaced with hard, cold, damp reality.

All because Callum had given up. He had given up. _He had let me down…_It had just taken once glance into Callum's frigid, guarded eyes to tell me that he didn't believe in change anymore, _but why? What had made him lose the faith he kept not only to keep himself happy, but me as well? What had done this? __**Who**__ had done this? _

Maybe…I was the culprit. Me, who needed him to believe the most, who had robbed him of his faith. Maybe because I'd said that word? Blanker? _Blanker_. I despised that word so much, even more then I despised the word _Dagger_.

It had started all of this. Perhaps Callum hadn't let me down. Perhaps I'd let him down first. Perhaps he'd had enough. Perhaps…our friendship was over? No, no, no. That couldn't happen…_could it?_

I raced into a toilet stall, where I could safely cry without being caught by a teacher. I sat down on the toilet lid, and allowed myself a deep, rickety breath.

_Its ok, Sephy, it's alright. You're hidden in this tiny bathroom stall. No one can see you; no one can see your tears. Its ok, Sephy, it's alright. __**Callum**__ can't see you in this tiny hiding place,__** he**__ can't see how he's deceived you,__** he**__ can't see your tears…_

I'm safe here. No one can see me. I'm dead to the world, but for how much longer? I knew I couldn't stay here forever. After our falling out at the beach yesterday, I'd spent all my time at school avoiding Callum. I couldn't face him.

I couldn't give him the opportunity to end our friendship, the friendship that kept me sane. No, I'd have to hide from him. I couldn't risk losing what we had. Pathetic, I know, but I was much past pathetic.

I wiped my eyes.

_Please God, don't let me cry in class…_

_BRING! _

The clamor of the bell signaling the end of break-time rang loud and clear in my ears. I took another deep, rocky breath and stood up. I couldn't run forever. I'd have to continue the day, ignoring the whispers and glares of disgust and hatred from not only the other students, but teachers, and do my best to avoid Callum.

It couldn't be that hard. What was harder, was knowing that nothing would ever be same between Callum and I. I opened the door apprehensively, and tried to ignore the thousands of ping-pong balls that were bouncing up and down in my tummy and the overly painful hammering of my heart.

"Ok, here goes…" I mumbled to myself.

When I walked out, I noticed with severe dismay that I wasn't the only one in the bathroom, there were three other girls here.

_Lola, Joanne and Dionne_, I recognized. I'd seen them before; they were a year older than me. They all were looking straight at me. _They were here for me._ A chill ran down my spine.

"We want to have a word with you," Lola began. Her voice was vindictive, acidic and razor sharp. From her not so comforting tone, I had a pretty good idea what she wanted to talk about.

I wanted to run, but I didn't dare. Not only would they catch up to me in 10 seconds flat, but it would have proved I was scared, and I had to keep my fear hidden. I settled for bratty. "And it has to be in here, does it?" I snapped back a tad bit arrogantly.

Joanne pushed me roughly; it took me a moment to finally stand still again.

"We heard about what you did yesterday…" Joanne trailed off menacingly, her eyes flaming with an intense fury. Aha. I'd been right about what they wanted to 'have a word' with me about. My instincts screamed at me to run and my heart pounded even harder, but I stayed where I was, keeping a relaxed look on my face.

"I did a lot of things yesterday." I answered simply, knowing I was walking on thin ice, but unable to act any other way. Joanne eyes' narrowed and the red-hot rage in them grew rapidly.

"In the Food Hall," Joanne started again. "You sat on the blankers table."

I gulped. "What's it to you?" I asked cheekily, and by then, they'd had just about enough. Lola smacked my face, proving she meant business. My hand instantly flew to my cheek. I was absolutely, completely and positively stunned. No one had _ever_ slapped me. Not my hot-headed father. Not my always-moody, always-frowning mother. Not even my very own bratty sister, who was always ready to claim her hatred for me.

"I don't care if your Dad is God Almighty himself," Lola spat. "Stick to your own kind. If you sit with the blankers again, everyone in this school will treat you like one of them."

"You need to wake up and check which side you're on," Joanne added.

"Why'd you want to be around them anyway?" Dionne asked, crinkling her nose.

"They smell funny and they eat peculiar foods and everyone knows that none of them are keen to make friends with soap and water." She snickered.

My own lividness sky rocketed, and I shouted out the next words before sanity could stop me. "What a load of rubbish! Callum has a wash everyday and he doesn't smell. None of them do!"

Dionne, Joanne and Lola all shared a long, wicked look. Lola shoved me down so I was sitting with my bum on the toilet lid and my face looking up at the three girls who were ready to murder me…just because my best friend was a nought, and I didn't mind it. I gulped and waited for the biting pain.

_Any second now and the door will open and someone will come in….Callum will come in and stop them. He'll pull them off me and sort them out. Any second now…_

**CALLUM.**

"Callum, wait." I ignored her, and continued walking. I walked in swift, cold, strides.

_Why had I ever wanted to come to this ruddy school? _

Oh yeah, because I'd wanted change. Yes, well, I'd definitely got that. But not the one I'd been hoping for. I'd been hoping for the crosses to finally realize we weren't any different. For them to finally act like 'God's Chosen', as they called themselves, and realize there was nothing wrong with noughts. But no. That certainly didn't happen, and didn't seem like it would anytime soon, if it ever did.

Instead, the only change had been that my prized friendship, the friendship I lived for, was growing weaker and weaker. Like an elastic band threatening to snap.

"Callum, hold on. WAIT!"

I sighed, frustrated, and woodenly whirled around to see Shania hurrying toward me so vigorously, that her bag was hopping up and down on her back quite visibly.

"What's the matter?" I asked blandly.

Shania gasped to catch her breath before answering me in a rush. "Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?" I asked dryly, not even the least bit interested. I didn't really care about whatever had happened, not after the day I had. My best friend, who had been humiliated in front of the entire school because of me, was completely avoiding me. Not like she didn't have a right to. I'd watched her get insulted, I'd watched her pride being spit on, and I hadn't done anything. Like I was a stranger, not her best friend.

_Her best friend who had always promised to keep her safe, her best friend who'd always promised to make her smile, her best friend who'd always promised to…__**be there**__…to never leave her in the cold…_

"About Sephy?" Hearing her name snapped me out of the gray fog of guilt and pain in my head.

"What about Sephy?" I snapped ferociously.

Shania was a bit taken aback by my tone, but continued.

"She's been beaten up. She was found crying in the girls' toilets, the ones next to the library."

What?!

_No._

_No._

_No._

_NO!_

My heart felt like it'd been brutally ripped out of my chest, and replaced with a pound of weighty titanium. I couldn't breathe, and my chest felt unusually heavy.

"Serves her right!" Shania's jaunty tone hit me like a gun shot. "Coming to our table and acting like the big 'I am.'"

Fire shot through my veins and any goodness left in me turned to ice.

"She didn't. It wasn't like that." I defended her sharply, my voice beating with intense loathing.

"Of course it is! She wanted to lord over us, a little kid like that sitting on our table. Well, we didn't have to teach her a thing or two; her own kind did it for us."

My fingers crushed into the back of my palms, it took everything in me not to hit her senseless.

I took a breath to try to push the feelings of blackness and revulsion out of system, but it only seemed like air was fuel to the fire burning within me.

I turned away from her and ran.

I ran for Sephy, I ran for our friendship, I ran for change, I ran for hatred, I ran for love…

My mind was a big, jumbled blur; all that I could see clearly in my mind was Sephy's face.

Sephy, blithely grinning at me, her face holding no trace of confusion or distress, her eyes dancing gaily, strands of her dark hair floating serenely around in the breeze, like she'd been exactly a week ago.

Her smile always had been the most accurate description of peace and beauty.

Every time the corners of her mouth tilted up into that warm, familiar smile, I'd always naturally prayed she keep grinning, for the better of the world.

_But after today and everything that had happened, would she continue to smile?_


End file.
